


One Year Since (In Lost Letters)

by KCeeRae



Series: Hobbit Drabble Collection [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 17:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16246283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCeeRae/pseuds/KCeeRae
Summary: It's not as if Thorin hadn't tried to contact him, but in a world as wide as their's mistakes were bound to happen.





	One Year Since (In Lost Letters)

One year to the day since Bilbo returned to the Shire, he finally placed the last piece of his furniture back in Bag End. While it hadn’t been the most troublesome journey he’s been on, individually going to each home in the Shire to harass its residents for his belongings was maddening.

Of course it was Lobelia who had the green quilted ottoman hiding in her bedroom. Bilbo had only found out because one of the other cousins had tattled on her at the farmers market. It was never good to get on a Hobbit’s bad side, they loved gossip and would spill your secrets to all the cousins buying their weekly produce. 

Bilbo stands back to admire the placement of the ottoman in his bedroom, and smiles, “Back where it belongs. Back where it all belongs.” He says, allowing himself to walk through Bag End. For the first time since his return home he sees it how it had been left. Pantry stocked, carpets cleaned, family heirlooms meticulously placed. Bilbo is able to pretend, just for a moment, that he never left home all those months ago. The idea of that settles uncomfortably in his belly and he knows what is missing from his home now, because something had been missing from his home, from his life.

Bilbo pulls the chest out from under his bed and stares for a moment at the contents. He need to add a few final touches to Bag End, because he’s changed and his space should reflect that. Sting, hanging in a place of honour over the fireplace. His Mithril shirt, hung pristinely among his other clothing. Thorin’s map, hanging in the entryway where Bilbo could always see it.

Standing back, Bilbo regards the map, a bittersweet smile on his lips. “Erebor…” A lot had been left behind when he had made the decision to return to the Shire. Memories, friends, a mountain he had risked his life for. Bilbo had almost been tempted to stay, settle down in a new life in the King’s court. Except Fili wasn’t his king, no matter how swell a job Bilbo knows he’ll do, he’d been born for it after all. Something important would always be missing from Erebor now, so it hadn’t been worth staying. Of course the rest of the company understood, they all had a deep grief settling in their bellies that would not disappear for a very long time. 

It had been Kili and Fili who had given him the map upon his departure. He’d attempted to return it to them but had been dismissed. They insisted he would need the heirloom more than they, despite the fact it had been passed down to them. ‘ _ So you’ll never forget where we are! Just in case you want to visit, or something.’ _

“Maybe one day…” Bilbo breathes, reaching out to touch his fingertips to the mountain. For now he had no plans to travel anywhere, just plans to finally sit his bottom down and  _ rest _ . 

Night is falling upon the Shire and Bilbo wraps himself in his housecoat, sits down in his armchair, and holds a cup of tea between his hands. He does not feel the contentedness he thought he would upon fixing his home, instead he feels lonely in the sprawling halls of Bag End.

 

\----

 

“You choose  _ now _ to tell me this!?” Thorin bellows, every Dwarf in the encampment turning to stare at their King. Balin and Dwalin are the only two unaffected by the outburst and share a look. They’d expected this reaction from Thorin.

The caravan of Dwarves is camped on the border of the Shire and Ered Luin, about a day’s travel away from the mountain. They have come from Erebor to escort those wishing to migrate from the Blue Mountains to the reclaimed mountain in the East. Thorin, the King of Erebor himself, thought it proper that he embark on the journey with the caravan and lead his people to their new home. It definitely wasn’t with the intention to stop in the Shire and visit a Hobbit, certainly not.

It  _ most certainly  _ wasn’t with the intention to visit a Hobbit who thought he lay dead in the tombs of Erebor. 

“We -  _ I - _ wrote letters to tell him! What do you mean they  _ didn’t make i-!?”  _

“Yer makin’ quite the scene, Thorin.” Dwalin says, the picture of composure. It directly contrasted Thorin, whose face was growing redder by the second.

“I’ll show you a  _ scene. _ ” Thorin whispers harshly. He jerks his head toward the line of trees behind them and Balin and Dwalin know it’s best to follow him and explain exactly what happened.

Thorin paces beyond the treeline, his friend’s words repeating in his head,

_ ‘Before you go visit him, laddie, there’s something we must confess.’ Balin had said, ‘You know Bilbo left Erebor the day after your funeral, before we realized you’d fallen into a coma and not actually died.’  _

_ ‘Yes, of course I’m aware. I’d written to him in a hurry to correct such thoughts.’ Not that he’d received a letter in return, but he didn’t blame Bilbo. To travel across the wide world thinking someone was dead and having it proved false? It was a betrayal of Bilbo’s emotions that could not be forgiven.  _

_ “Yes, well, about that... none of the letters you sent made it.” _

“You see, Thorin -” Balin starts, clearing his throat, “- Dis was sorting through the last of the papers in Ered Luin, night before last, and it seems as though our ravens got confused… she found your  _ many _ letters to Bilbo mixed in with the rubbish mail. We found out during our morning correspondence with her when we told her we had arrived here… it is more than likely, since none of the Company has visited Bilbo, that he will not know.”

“Why was it with the rubbish?! Why would no one in Ered Luin know the name of Bilbo Baggins!?” Thorin demands. 

“Not all the tales of the Company have reached Ered Luin.” Dwalin supplies, “It is likely the involvement of our Hobbit is unknown to all expect Dis and her council.”

Thorin only stops pacing because he needs to breathe. He leans his back against a tree, eyes closed as he takes ragged breaths, “I thought him angry with me this year, since my recovery… I have imagined how he would react to seeing me. I cannot in my wildest dreams imagine the anger that will be with him now… oh Bilbo.” Thorin says in anguish. 

“Thorin, this is not your fault. You did what you could, half a world away.” Dwalin assures, reaching out to touch Thorin’s shoulder and steady him. “This misunderstanding will be cleared.” 

“... I cannot bare to see the look in his eyes... You told me, Balin, you told me he was heartbroken.” 

“Now, I don’t believe I was the one who used that word, in particular.” Balin says, sure that it was one of the younger in the company who played Bilbo off like a grieving widow.

“ _ Still.”  _ Thorin insists, “To cause him pain… I should never be forgiven. I never even had a chance to apologize further to him, my debt to Bilbo piles and piles.” 

Balin tried not to roll his eyes. The  _ theatrics  _ of the line of Durin will never cease. He reaches into the fold of his coat and handed Thorin a pile of letters. “ Dis had them returned to us. I will take them to him so he can be prepared. Bilbo is reasonable.” 

“Rightly terrifying as well, though.” Dwalin adds, getting elbowed by his brother for it. 

Thorin looks at the aged letters, sealed and signed meticulously by himself many months ago. “Oh Mahal have mercy…” 

“You are still going in the morning, Thorin. You have not come all this way to let fear control you.” Balin reminds and Thorin sighs. It would be inexcusable for him to do anything but, even if he’d rather face another dragon than Bilbo.

 

\----

 

It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone in through the curtains, warming Bilbo delightfully as he stayed curled up in bed, content not to move. There would be no more harassment of relatives and Bilbo could bask in it. 

Until there’s knock at his door and Bilbo groans. Such was his luck, he was finally done with his annoying relatives and that’s the moment they decide to take an interest with him. At such an early hour as well! Bilbo is prepared to ignore it completely except the knocking continues. 

“Blasted neighbours, don’t they know anything about _peace?_ ” Another knock, “I am coming! Just wait a moment!” He calls, angrily pulling on his housecoat and stomping toward the door, “Have a little more patience, please, I have just woke-!” Bilbo throws open his front door and freezes for just a moment before throwing himself forward at the Dwarves in front of him.   
“Dwalin! Balin! Wake me up any day, as early as you like!” Bilbo cries, squeezing the Dwarves around the shoulders with his feet lifted off the ground. 

The brothers laugh happily and return the embrace, eventually setting the Hobbit back to his feet.

“I haven’t prepared a thing!” Bilbo realizes in horror, turning and scrambling back into his hole, “You must be hungry! Oh, how you’ve traveled far!” 

Amused, the Dwarves follow Bilbo inside to his kitchen where he is already stoking the fire to cook on. 

“We would not say no to food, Bilbo. How are you? Your home looks as immaculate as the first day I saw it.” Balin says, sitting down at the dining table. While no letters reached Bilbo, the Hobbit also had not sent letters. At first, like Thorin, they believed it to be anger over Thorin’s status of being alive, but many began to think there were other reasons for the silence. 

“Oh your words are kind, since it was only last night when my home returned to this state. When I returned to the Shire I found my family auctioning away all my possessions. I was declared dead, can you believe it!?” Bilbo scoffs, cracking eggs into a pan hurriedly, “Just yesterday I hunted and took back the last piece of my furniture, and finally my home is how it should be again.” 

“We did not know. I am sorry you returned home to such chaos.” Dwalin grunts, he would happily hunt down those who had made Bilbo’s life harder in a time of grief. 

Back to the Dwarves, Bilbo nods, “ Yes well, it was not as if I wrote…” he turns to them, eyes full of remorse, “I am sorry, for that. Usually I am much better at writing, but with my whole house debacle, and well… everything that happened, it has taken a while to process things.” He admits, “I would not have left you in silence forever.”

Balin hurries to assure Bilbo, “No harm done, laddie. No one holds it against you. We figured if you chose to have nothing to do with us, that would be just fine, we did put you through a lot.” 

“No! I want the opposite, truly. I often think of you all, about Erebor, and how Fili is faring as King. How you all are faring after the quest… I know it would be hypocritical for me to say, after all I never wrote you, but I did expect something, just to let me know how Erebor was doing.” 

“Well, about that-” Balin says, reaching into his coat for a large stack of letters, “It seems as though our raven did not know where the Shire was, and took all your mail to Ered Luin. Where, unfortunately, your mail was thrown in with the rubbish. These are the letters the company sent you.”

Bilbo forgets about the eggs and they begin to burn, but he could care less, “You all wrote… and I have missed a year and never wrote you once. I am terrible.” Bilbo bemoans, delicately taking the stack and opening the first letter.

“Laddie.” Balin clears his throat, and Bilbo looks up. “Since these letters never arrived, there is some… information, that was never relayed to you.” 

“Oh, I expect so! I honestly can’t wait to see what surprises these letters have for me. I’ve always enjoyed getting mail. You being here and this stack of letters is a fantastic present.”

Dwalin thinks that if Bilbo believes this to be a fine present he isn’t ready for what is about to come. 

“Yes, well… you must know that there is another member of the Company who has traveled to Ered Luin with us.” Balin admits, causing Bilbo’s face to light up. 

“Is that so? Where are they? Who is it?” He asks, looking toward the door like another Dwarf may walk in at any moment. 

“You see, they wanted to speak with you alone. So once we leave, they will come in.” 

Bilbo’s face twists in confusion. He can’t think of any member of the Company who would request that, “... I suppose that would be alright?” 

“ I must warn you when I say, because the letters did not arrive  _ much _ has been missed, Bilbo. Do you understand?” 

“Not as well as I’d like… if I kick you out to see the mysterious visitor you will return to visit, yes?” Bilbo asks. 

Dwalin snorts and nods, “Tomorrow for dinner, if that’s alright with you?” 

“More than alright!... Oh, I did not feed you. I am a terrible host.” Bilbo groans, watching them stand, “You could stay, I could still make something!” 

“No. I think you’ll want to see your visitor sooner rather than later.” Dwalin says and Bilbo sighs, walking with them to the door. 

“This  _ secrecy _ . I did not miss Dwarves and their secrecy… I did, however, miss you all very much.” He admits, standing in the doorway.

“We missed you as well, Bilbo… remember what I said. This is going to be quite a surprise. It wasn’t for lack of trying, on our part. We wrote to you right away.” Bilbo reminds.

“I do not hold anything against you. I will greet any member of the Company with open arms.” Bilbo assures, bowing and receiving two in return. “Best of luck, see you tomorrow.” 

With that, the Dwarves walk back down the path and Bilbo is left to ponder who exactly could be visiting.

 

\----

 

Bilbo decides that it is Fili coming to see him, after all it would be quite spectacular for the King to be able to leave his post in Erebor. Fili, with Kili surely at his side, would be at his door any moment. Perhaps they’ve grown fond of Royal theatrics, that must be it. Bilbo prepares for guests this time, making a delicious brunch of sausage, eggs, bacon, and all the other breakfast fixings that he’s sure a Dwarf would love.   
The knock on his door excites Bilbo this time, and he runs to it knowing there is a Dwarf behind it and not a nosy neighbour. Although he suspects that neighbours would be by if they saw Dwarves filtering into Bag End again.

With no hesitation, Bilbo throws the door open, ready to greet the young King and Prince of Erebor. The words die on his tongue as he looks upon the Dwarf who is there to see him.

Thorin is dressed plainly in a blue robe that had simple detailing. It wasn’t the clothing of a King, but the clothes of a simple Dwarf who no longer put much stock into finery. 

Stunned into silence, the two stare at each other, until Thorin works up the nerve to speak first. He bows low at the waist, hanging his head, “... Thorin son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain, at your service.” 

“E-Excuse me?” Bilbo stammers, taking a slight step backward into Bag End. 

With his head still hung, Thorin swallows thickly, “The letters we sent did not make it to you. I only just found out this morning that you had not known. After you left, just two days later, they realized I was in a coma, and wrote to you. Not long after, I woke and wrote myself… only now am I healed, and able to travel this far. Bilbo, I owe you the most sincerest of apologi-” 

“No.” Bilbo chokes, shaking his head, “No, no- you  _ can’t _ .” Bilbo turns on his heel and retreats into the halls of Bag End, completely forgetting to shut the door in his escape. 

Thorin stares after him for a long time, sure that he was expected to go, before working up his courage and walking into the smial. He had come all this way, after all. Thorin has a terrible time navigating around the halls of Bag End, his sense of direction has not improved. He only finds Bilbo by following the wet, ragged breaths that come from the kitchen. 

Bilbo is sitting on the floor, back against the farthest wall of the kitchen. His face is in his hands as he shakes, trying to come to terms with what has happened, even if it surely can’t be true. ‘Mad Baggins’, they called him, and perhaps they were right. Bilbo is positive that he has imagined this whole morning, from Dwalin and Balin at his door, to Thorin’s appearance moments ago. He doesn’t look up when heavy boots tread into the room.

“You cannot be real.” Bilbo gasps, shaking his head and not looking up, “You… I held you as you  _ died,  _ I  _ mourned  _ you. There is no way that you are here.” 

“Bilbo…” Thorin says, watching the Hobbit flinch away. He swallows, turning to the pile of letters that Balin left with Bilbo this morning. He picks up the first one, the one he had sent when he had woken from his coma. Tearing it open, he reads,

“ _ Master Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, I do sincerely hope that you arrived home safely. If I had been able I would have escorted you back myself. Though this may come as a shock to you, as it did for my kin and Company, I did not perish in the battle. After the funeral, and two days following your departure, they learned I was in a coma. While it look long, I eventually woke and began a long road to recovery. I am endlessly sorry that you were forced to leave with such a belief in your mind, and that hopefully it will be corrected justly by the letters the Company and I have sent. _

_ I wish we could have parted on different circumstances, I am sorry for all the pain that I have caused. I will admit I am disappointed to find that you were no longer in Erebor upon my waking, but I should not have expected anything else, I suppose. You fulfilled your contract and deserved to return home to all that you know and love.  _

_ I just hope that you do not hold much grief in your heart, I cannot imagine you should, after all the pain you have suffered on my behalf.  _

_ You are back to your books, your armchair, your garde-” _

_ “ _ Stop! Will you stop!? Please!” Bilbo begs, looking up at Thorin, eyes red with anguish, “ Stop.” He sobs, “Just stop.” 

“Bilbo…” Thorin grips the letter tight in his hands, “You must know I never meant to keep you in the dark! It is the most unfortunate of mistakes. I am  _ sorr-”  _

“It is just too much, right now! Certainly it is too much, after a year of believing one thing to suddenly be bombarded with another! Especially something like this concerning so much grief.” Bilbo chokes, wiping his face on the sleeves of his housecoat to try and salvage some shred of his dignity.

“...What would you have me do?” Thorin begs, falling to his knees in front of Bilbo. He desperately wants to pull the crying Hobbit into his arms but restrains himself, hands fisted in the edges of his coat

It hurts Bilbo’s heart, to say what he does next, but he must take this news by himself, lest he’s certain he’ll fall to hysterics. More than he has, anyway. 

“... go back to Ered Luin for the night. I will come find you when I am ready.” 

Thorin’s face falls but he does not argue. Of course Bilbo would not want to be in his company after every betrayal he has faced. Rising to his feet, Thorin bows, “I am happy to see you, Bilbo… more than happy. I will be in Ered Luin for the next month before our caravan returns to Erebor… I do hope to hear from you.” Thorin stands still for a moment longer before leaving Bag End and returning to the Blue Mountains. 

When the door to his home closes Bilbo stands on shaky feet. He takes one look at the letters on the table and with a sob, knocks them to the floor. “Why!? Why after- after all of thi-!?” his voice breaks.

A year spent rebuilding a home that his heart was not in, trying to swallow the grief of a friend buried half a world away. Struggle can take a lot out of a Hobbit when they face it alone. Bilbo can feel the emotions he has tried so hard to crush rising up in his throat and no matter what he does he knows they will not be pushed back down. Not when Thorin is  _ alive _ . 

“Oh  _ Eru _ .” 

 

\----

 

“Sons of Fundin, you said to announce when the King has returned and King Thorin is-”

“He is  _ distraught _ is what he is.” Thorin moans, coming into the room behind the messenger. 

“Ah, yes, I see. Thank you, Tormau, that will be all.” Balin dismisses her and watches as Thorin all but throws himself onto the sofa. 

“Oh Mahal.” Dwalin mutters under his breath and Thorin picks up his head enough to glare.   
“You did not see him, Dwalin. With tears in his eyes, sobs in his throat, and disbelief in his very soul! Why do I continue to hurt the one who I-!” Thorin swallows his words and Balin sighs, sitting on the edge of the sofa next to him. 

“... your life has been a story of fire and ruin. The quest to reclaim Erebor, and subsequently your entire relationship with Bilbo, was surrounded by hardship. Only now has our life fallen into prosperity, and only now are you given the chance to truly build something with him.” He says softly, patting the king on the back. 

“Aye, do not think of this as yer end. This is the beginning of Erebor, the beginning of the good in our lives. Sure, he’s upset, has all the right to be, but it won’t be forever. ‘M sure he’ll be by soon filled with absolute joy to see you livin’, you big oaf!” Dwalin huffs.

Thorin laughs softly, wiping his eyes where tears were gently pooling, “You truly believe so? That he will want to see me again after such a display of grief?” 

“Grief is born for a reason. He would not react that way if he did not truly miss you, Thorin. Do not feel so harshly toward yourself, you do not deserve it… let’s just wait for Bilbo to come and tell you the truth of all this.”

“... while I do not feel I could possibly have the patience, I believe I have no choice.” Thorin sighs and the brothers smile.   
“All will work out in time.” Balin assures, “Certainly we will tell you how he is tomorrow when we visit his home again for dinner.” 

“I want nothing more than to come with you both, but yes. Tell me all you can upon your return.” Thorin climbs off the sofa to his feet and sniffs, “... I must meet with Dis, I’m afraid I took to much this day for personal matters and must see to some planning. I have not even said hello to her yet, she will be livid.” 

“Go be king and soothe her temper before she yells at all of us.” Dwalin shoos him and Thorin smiles just a touch as he leaves. 

“Lovesick.” Balin snickers. 

“Absolutely smitten. The most lovesick fool in all of Middle Earth.” Dwalin snorts. 

 

\----

  
  


Bilbo is looking a bit worse for wear when the Fundin siblings come around next evening. Night brought him no peace and certainly no sleep, not when there was a year worth of letters to read. He’d sat at his writing desk and poured over them, making sure to note the dates so he could create a timeline in his mind. 

Thorin woke from his coma after two months and has been recovering from his injuries for almost the entire year. Two months after waking Fili passed the crown of Erebor back to his uncle out of respect, though the Prince still oversaw many of the restoration efforts while Thorin regained his strength. Fili was acting as King while Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin ventured to Ered Luin to collect the rest of their kin and escort them to Erebor. 

Many of the letters were asking Bilbo to write back and let the Company know he had made it home safe. There was worry in Ori’s normally perfect scrawl and frantic inquiry in the letters that Thorin sent. Thorin had sent  _ many  _ letters, with increasing frequency in the last few months. 

He had been trying to warn Bilbo that he planned to visit Ered Luin and would love to meet with him, if Bilbo was agreeable. Bilbo certainly would have been agreeable under different circumstances, but with the current situation he was anything but. 

Bilbo opens the door and greets the Dwarves with a weak smile, eyes puffy from lack of sleep and tears. 

“Oh, Bilbo.” Balin says gently, reaching out and giving Bilbo’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “If you need us to leav-”

“No, no thank you.” Bilbo can’t help but sniff, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his dress coat, “Please, come in. I honestly have not decided if I should be cross with the both of you, however, so be on the lookout for that.” He warns. 

Stepping inside of Bag End with Bilbo and his brother, Dwalin sighs “I’m sorry we didn’ tell ya, Bilbo. Somethin’ like that… where do you even find the words?” 

“Well, I understand that, at least… I have yet to find the words to admit this impossibility to myself, though I have seen him with my own eyes.” Bilbo laughs gently, “Though for a moment I thought I had gone mad.” 

“Certainly not, laddie. Thorin is very much alive, I can assure you.” Balin says. 

“Oh, I know… I do. I have spent my night looking over the letters you left. I know what I have missed, and this was not out of malice to keep in me in the dark… no matter how harsh it feels.” 

Bilbo leads the two into the kitchen where food is actually prepared this time. There is sliced roast beef, biscuits, and roasted vegetables from his garden.   
“... Ever since returning home, this is as lost as I have ever felt.” Bilbo admits, carrying a tray of ale mugs to the table, “And I assure you I have had many moments of feeling lost before this.”   
“Is it right to assume you feel you have a decision to make?” Dwalin inquires, stuffing beef between a flaky biscuit with butter.   
Bilbo glances at the two brothers who seems to be waiting on his answer with anticipation. He clears his throat, “Yes, perhaps, it does feel like this is a catalyst to something else, and I am quite torn.”

Balin takes a sip of his ale and raises an eyebrow, “You just settled back in your home, after all. Doesn’t seem like much a time to be making rash decisions.” 

“But-” Dwalin adds, “-is it really rash if it’s somethin’ you thought about everyday for the past year?” 

“Now just wait a minute!” Bilbo splutters, “I never said I had been thinking about  _ anything _ , certainly not  _ everyday _ . You are putting words in my mouth.” 

“Or perhaps readin’ ya like a book.” Dwalin smirks, licking butter off his mustache. 

Bilbo makes a face.  _ Dwarves. _ He stays silent for a moment as he puts roast carrots onto his plate, “... did you see him, last night? Did you see Thorin?” 

“Aye, I did.” Balin says, “... I would describe him as lost, yes. Lost is a good word for the feeling that surrounds you both, right now.” 

“How could I be anything but?” Bilbo questions, “After so long of sitting on an assumption, to have your world turned upside down in a way you never imagined…” he shakes his head and it causes Balin to smile. 

“He was your... friend, grief like that sits heavy on a soul.” Balin agrees, “And having that shaken, after you’ve tried to settle it in your heart… anyone would be lost.” 

“Certainly Thorin has had a heavy weight on his heart.” Dwalin adds, “And a hole in his heart, as well. Since he woke with his burglar nowhere to be seen. He asked for you first, said he had more to say.” He raises his eyebrows and Bilbo swallowed. 

Bilbo had never told anyone Thorin’s words on Ravenhill, “... Apologies and such, none of your business, I believe.” He clears his throat and pats his mouth with a napkin. 

Dwalin grins, loving the reactions he could get from the Hobbit, “Whatever happened it got him  _ awful _ worked up.” 

“Oh, enough.” Balin huffs, “The point of all this is us asking if you will go to see him? You will come to Ered Luin, or at the very least send for Thorin?” He hopes. 

Bilbo cannot deny the request because he has felt a pull toward the mountain since he knew his Dwarves were in it, even more since  _ Thorin _ was in it. “I will.” He promises, finishing the last of the food on his plate, “Though I cannot say when, and will not promise that it will be soon. I just will need more time, I think. At least before I am ready to have any conversations of that sort.” 

“What sort?” Dwalin presses, only to be elbowed firmly by his brother.

“Whatever sort they like.” Balin answers in a huff.   
“Certainly so.” Bilbo agrees. 

With the table cleared and after-dinner pipes burnt out, Bilbo leads his guests to the door for their departure.

“Do tell him I will be there to see him, and to be patient. Remind him he is also forgiven, please  be insistent on that fact. I would bet he does not believe it, but it is most certainly true of me that I have forgiven him.” 

The brothers bow their heads in unison and smile, “Whatever you do, Laddie, it will be what is right.” 

“Answer me this, Bilbo.” Dwalin requests before they leave, “If Thorin had lived would you have left Erebor?” 

Bilbo’s mouth falls open and he snaps it shut, shaking his head, “No, Dwalin, I cannot say I would have. I believe I would have stayed.”

Dwalin smiles softly, “There you are then.” 

“Indeed.” Bilbo licks his lips, “Be off with you then before night falls. I am sure Thorin will wish to hear all you have to say.” 

“Oh he will!” Dwalin snorts and Balin glares. 

“Say no more, it’s not your place Dwalin.” Balin reprimands, and with a final wave the two leave. 

Bilbo finds that his unsure feeling was settling into an answer. Except nothing could be done without speaking to Thorin again first. Bilbo had to make sure that the reasons he wanted to be in Erebor were the same reasons that Thorin came to visit him. 

“... I suppose I am going to the Blue Mountains in the morning. There is nothing else for it. I will not sit in my hole and wallow..” Bilbo huffs, going back into his Smial and beginning to pack. 

 

\----

 

“Lady Dis.” The princess lifts her head, looking at the messenger who had entered her study. She was busy packing up the last of her documents to be loaded onto wagons for the departure in the coming weeks, “ A Hobbit from the Shire is here to see-” 

“Say no more!” Dis practically runs toward the door, “Thank you Tormau, you’re lovely, take the rest of the day off!” 

Dis had hoped beyond hope that Bilbo Baggins of the Shire would come to the Blue Mountains to speak with her. She had used the utmost restraint to avoid travelling to the Shire herself to see him over the last year.

Dis was excitable, but she was not intrusive. If the Hobbit from her family’s quest wished for nothing to do with Dwarves than that was his choice. He was never meant to be a part of their story, after all. 

She loves to see the shock on the little Hobbit’s face when he sees her. She and her brother looked quite alike, they even wore their beards similarly. Dis smirks when she sees the recognition on Bilbo’s face and he bows.   
“L-Lady Dis, I… I feel as though I must apologize, though we have never met. I am Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, who went with the Company of Dwarves who reclaimed Erebor. It was rude of me to never write, nor visit when the relatives of my friends lived so closely to my own home. I hope that you will see well to forgive me.” 

“You bow to no Dwarf in Middle Earth, Master Baggins.” She insists, pulling him into a tight embrace, smirking when he gasps, “It seems many mishaps have happened with letters, and I had not had yours properly delivered. In that way I believe we are more than even, Bilbo, though I will still apologize for the mistake.” 

When she rests him back to his feet Bilbo is flush, staring up at her shyly, “Y-Yes there were some misunderstandings… I am happy you did not have to grieve your brother for very long, and that your sons are healthy. They are admirable Dwarves, certainly.” 

“By whose standards? One is courting an Elf.” Bilbo is about to jump in and vouch for Tauriel but he can see the mirth in Dis’ eyes. Dis has written to Tauriel and she is a kind soul who adores her son, she has no complaint, “I am sorry you had to grieve for so long. That is a hard weight to bare when you care deeply for the one fallen.” 

Bilbo’s blush deepens, “You Dwarves just _adore_ gossip, don’t you? I tried to reprimand them for it on the quest and it was rampant through our camp. The things you all say.” he huffs and Dis laughs, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him deeper into the mountain.   
“You complain but secretly you enjoy all the silly habits of Dwarves. You’re here after all, not to see me I suspect.” 

“... I heard Thorin is quite upset?” Bilbo ventures and Dis’ smile softens. Oh the Hobbit cares for her brother very much, she can see it written all over his face. These two fools… 

“Only at the idea you will never forgive him.”

“Oh! He needs to stop with that! I forgave him already and I  _ know _ he heard me. Stupid fool! If he thinks I’d be angry that he is alive that is just preposterous! He has absolutely nothing to be sorry for and if he were here right now I would yell it in his face! ‘Thorin, I forgive you!’, that’s what I would say, because it is true.” Bilbo announces resolutely and glares at Dis when she stops walking and begins to laugh heartily..

“What, pray tell, is so funny?” 

“Oh! Thorin’s face in front of us is the most hilarious thing I have had the pleasure of gazing upon.” 

Bilbo’s head whips around and surely enough at the end of the hall is Thorin, gaping like a fish. Bilbo wants to crawl back into his hole in the ground and  _ die _ . 

“T-Thorin! Well, f-f-fancy seeing you here. Or maybe not so fancy, since you are staying here, after all. Your sister does live here, also, so yes, you would certainly be here.” Bilbo clears his throat, casting his gaze anywhere but Thorin.   
There’s silence, and Bilbo is forced to look back down the hall at Thorin who has not moved nor spoke. 

“Thorin?” 

“I did not think you would come.” Thorin swallows, trying to right himself, “I was not expecting you to, after… especially not so soon” 

“Yes, well, then you really are  _ dense _ .” Bilbo grunts and Dis all but cackles, leaning against the wall for support.

“You know? I will leave you both.” Dis decides, “Bilbo, it was lovely meeting you. You are delightful, I hope we will have time to speak more.” 

“O-Oh, yes of course.” Bilbo stammers, watching the princess as she makes her departure. He wished she would stay and act as a buffer. She says something to Thorin in Dwarvish but Bilbo cannot understand, however he can understand Thorin’s flush. 

Thorin turns his attention back to Bilbo and swallows, “I am dense?” He asks, stepping forward. 

“Certainly so, you expected me not to come see you when I find out you are alive? What reason would I have for doing that?” Bilbo stands his ground, heart beating faster as Thorin approaches. 

“For causing you sorrow, for the unnecessary grief you have felt, for many things that I cannot begin to put into words.” Thorin states, stopping a few feet from Bilbo. 

“Well I do believe I forgave you for much of the peril and such, and as for the … unfortunate circumstances of all-” Bilbo waves his hand a bit, “-this, that is what it is. Unfortunate circumstances. It is a wide world in which we live, and it is not the first time that mail has gotten confused. I remember the time one of the cousins of my father’s side wanted to ask out one of the ladies in Buckland and he sent a letter, but you have to be specific when there is about thirteen Daisy Brandybuck’s out near East Farthing-” Bilbo stops when he realizes he is rambling, “Oh dear…” 

There’s a pause, before Thorin laughs, a small smile spreading over his lips, “... I have missed you.” He admits, “There is no one quite like you in Erebor.” 

“Well it seems there is no one like me at all in the Shire, that is for certain. So perhaps that is not so strange.” Bilbo swallows, “... Thorin, erm… I… that is to say- oh bother…” Bilbo’s gaze flows from his own feet to Thorin’s face, “Although I have missed a lot of information in those letters, it was fortunate that I had not missed out on any courting propositions like poor Daisy Brandybuck. It took months before that was sorted…” 

“I believe that is not the sort of thing you reveal in a letter.”

“Oh, well. I do believe that I agree with you, Thorin. That sort of thing should be spoken about in person.” 

“Too bad it is such a wide world in which we live.” Thorin hums, repeating Bilbo’s words, “It is complicated to see someone face-to-face… it will be even more difficult, because all the Dwarves are leaving for Erebor and there will be no more Dwarven stronghold in this part of Middle Earth.” 

“Are you saying you will not travel this way again?” Bilbo asks, a feeling of panic lighting itself in his chest. 

“Not as often as I would like. Of course if I still had friends this way I would make the journey, but it would be rare. I don’t mean to say that to guilt you, or to force your hand Bilbo. It just happens to be the reality of my life as King.”   
“King under the mountain…” Bilbo breathes. He takes a moment to think, “I believe my life would be quite dreadful if I was unable to see my friends very often. I was quite ecstatic when Dwalin and Balin arrived to my door.” 

“Less so to see me, I suppose.” Thorin guesses and Bilbo hurriedly speaks to correct him. 

“It’s not that I wasn’t happy to see you! Quite the contrary in fact! Although I have grown braver I admit I can still be faint of heart and you startled me more than I can describe. When I asked you to leave it wasn’t out of hatred it was to breathe, to think… to work up the courage to come here to speak with you.” 

Both men watch as a group of Dwarves hurries past them and Thorin clears his throat, “Perhaps we should move to speak somewhere more private and you can tell me what you have thought about?” 

“Yes I do believe that would work.” 

\----

 

When they enter Thorin’s room he hurries to clear the sofa of items he had been packing, “I left on our journey in a hurry and this is the first I have been back. I am afraid it is a bit of a mess now that I am attempting to pack everything and aid in the relocation of Ered Luin.” 

“Do not trouble yourself!” Bilbo insists, helping Thorin relocate some clothing so they are able to sit, “Let me tell you my home was in such disarray until only a few days ago! My relatives thought my disappearance was a valid reason to auction off all of my belongings and I just returned them to my home! It was a nightmare, truly.” 

Thorin stares at him for a long moment before letting out an anguished sigh, “Oh Bilbo! How dare they invade your home in such a way, and after all you had been through. Truly the world has not been kind to you. I apologize.” 

“Now Thorin, you could not have known my family would be so rude nor that those letters would not arrive to me. You have nothing to apologize for.” Bilbo tuts, reaching out to pat Thorin’s thigh consolingly. 

Bilbo hand is caught between two of Thorin’s and the Dwarf catches his eyes, “ If you just brought your home back to its original state I doubt you are planning to leave it.” Thorin realizes, and the pain in his eyes is overwhelming. 

“Now now! I did not say that, you did.” Bilbo reminds, “I thought I would feel at peace once my furniture was returned to my home but it was not the case. Home is not… home is not objects. Nor is it antiques. While I enjoy having those things home is… people. Without people in your life you care about it is sad to live. I was beginning to think about that when Dwalin and Balin showed up, that I was missing something.” 

The grip on his hand tightens as Thorin listens, “Yes? What were you missing?”   
Bilbo swallows, looking down at their joined hands, “... I knew you were missing. In a different sense, at the time. The hole you left, Thorin, I knew it would never be filled, but I thought perhaps that returning to Erebor to be with the Dwarves I had grown so fond of would ease that pain. Even if you were not there....” 

“But now that I am here?” Thorin asks. 

“I want to be where you are.” Bilbo smiles, “From the moment you came to my home I knew I would follow you back to Erebor. I only left because you were gone, but now you are here alive. So wonderfully alive, Thorin.”

“So you are coming back to Erebor?” Thorin asks, practically vibrating in excitement. 

“Yes, Thorin.” Bilbo laughs, “But! Although I say that furniture is not important I have worked  _ tirelessly _ to retrieve mine and I refuse to leave it behind so I will be hiring the largest wagon to bring all of my belongings with me and that is not negotiable.” 

Bilbo gasps as he finds himself wrapped in an embrace, warmth settling around him like a cocoon as Thorin holds him close.

“ _ Thank Mahal _ . I have never been so relieved to hear anything in my whole life.” Thorin whispers and Bilbo flushes, burying his face in the fur of Thorin’s jacket.

“... just a quick question?” Bilbo ventures, a bit muffled by the furs. 

“Of course, Bilbo, anything for you.” 

“Erm, so…” Bilbo pulls back just a touch from the embrace, figuring he should have enough bravery to look Thorin in the face as he asks, “Just so we are on the same page, when I mentioned courting propositions I was insinuating that you and I, that the two of us-” Bilbo makes a vague motion between them, “- It’s just that perhaps I have other intentions and I would not have your excitement at my return to Erebor be crushed by the realization that I have… feelings of that nature.” 

“Oh! Dare I admit I thought this whole conversation was under the assumption were talking about being together in such a way.” Thorin admits, his face as red as an open flame, “I was too presumptuous and getting ahead of myself. My deepest apologies, I did not mean-”   
“Oh goodness enough with your apologizing!” Bilbo laughs lifting his hands to rest on either side of Thorin’s face, his fingers twitching as he resists stroking the beard beneath them, “Especially since it appears we have the same intentions.”

Thorin freezes, going a bit cross-eyed as he attempts to look at the hands on his face. Bilbo snorts, causing him to look up, “Ridiculous. You’re just-” Bilbo jumps slightly when a forehead is pressed against his own. 

“What am I?” Thorin asks softly and Bilbo swallows. 

“You’re wonderful.” Bilbo whispers, “You’re just… everything. I never thought I would see you alive again and I am overwhelmed by what I feel.” 

“Will you move all your belongings into my rooms in Erebor?” 

“Yes of course I will.” Bilbo beams, feeling Thorin’s nose brush against his own.

“Will you stay with me there, live with me?”   
“Yes, Thorin. Do you even have to ask?” Bilbo breathes, feeling beard against his cheek.  
“Will you be my consort and rule by my side?” 

“Thorin-” There is the ghost of lips against his own.   
“Answer the question. Please, Bilbo.” 

“Yes. Yes of course, Thorin. You need not ask me anything else.” 

So Thorin doesn’t. Instead he closes the distance between them and attempts to tell Bilbo all that he’s felt with just his lips. Bilbo gets the picture because its not long before he finds himself on his back against the sofa with Thorin hovering over him. 

“I… I think we should hire that wagon now. I would very much enjoy getting back to Erebor.” Bilbo breathes and Thorin grins, nodding his ascent. 

“The sooner we can return home the better.” 

\----

The journey to Erebor is made in record time. The company is shocked to see Bilbo ride in on the same carriage as Thorin and they are overcome with laughter at the retelling of the tale. Bilbo’s first task he takes on in Erebor is making sure all unclaimed mail is delivered so nothing keeps lovers apart again. Dwarves were just useless without a Hobbit around, after all. 


End file.
